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“It’s Mrs. Presley-Paige, and playing dirty is my middle name.”
“Nope, it’s Barbara,” he countered.
She responded by swishing her sweet ass against his cock, and the press was none the wiser to their sexy challenge of who could drive the other crazy the fastest.
“Fine, it’splaying dirty. I concede. Are you happy to be here, Mrs. Playing Dirty?” he pressed. He needed to hear her say it.
She relaxed against him. “You know I’m happy.”
He did because he could relate. He felt the same way. “Forget the vegetables and the cannoli comparisons. Let’s try sports. How about a bat?” he suggested.
“You’re comparing your”—she rolled her hips and teased his cock—“to a baseball bat?” she whispered. “You’re definitely not a challenge-number-one cookie. I’ll give you that, heartthrob. But a baseball bat? What do you think you are? A wild stallion?”
Hell yes, he was. “It’s not that far-fetched. A certain someone rode me all night long. A stallion isn’t that much of a stretch.”
She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. The paparazzi frenzy intensified as the men and women calling out to them in a wash of English and Italian tussled to get a shot of them in a different pose.
“You’ve got me there.” She ran her hand down the scruff on his cheek. “I might be a dirty cowgirl, but you’re a very, very naughty rock star.”
“Rock star?” he repeated.
“That’s your sound now, isn’t it?” she challenged. “Acoustic rock with an alternative edge.”
Just hearing her say it gave him a boost. “It will be, thanks to you.”
And if everything went as planned, he’d be showcasing his new sound at Red Rocks Unplugged.
The concert was drawing closer. He’d sent the rough tracks of his new music to his label. He hadn’t heard back, but he had a feeling that would work out—a brighter outlook he hadn’t harnessed in years.
Honestly, he should be a shoo-in if they’d offered Vance-freaking-Vibe a spot.
Still, it didn’t help that a couple of days ago, Mitzi called to tell him she couldn’t join them in Italy to celebrate Tomás and Bess’s vow renewal. The slight pain in her jaw she’d written off as nothing had become a full-fledged dental emergency, and she’d required surgery. The woman was a force to be reckoned with, but even she was a mere mortal and couldn’t go toe-to-toe with the powers that be when she was nursing a throbbing jaw.
He had to keep the faith and believe.
He gazed into his wife’s eyes.
Believe.
That was their word.
The music they’d collaborated on was good—no, it was a game changer.
But he needed the street cred of the Red Rocks Unplugged platform to successfully make the switch from bubble gum pop to becoming a bona fide rock star.
Once he made the change, there was no going back—no Plan B, no second-guessing.
This was his shot to deliver on a promise that meant everything.
Don’t screw it up.
“Where did you go?” Harper asked, tracing a line down his cheek as she pulled him back from the brink.
“I was thinking about tonight,” he lied. He couldn’t share his fears with her—not tonight.
Harper’s face lit up. “More romance scale of devotion stuff?”
He stroked her cheek. “Something like that.”
